


An Ill-Pulled Tooth

by voleuse



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-23
Updated: 2006-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-04 06:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Some words bedevil me</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ill-Pulled Tooth

**Author's Note:**

> Set before 2.22. Title and summary adapted from Audre Lorde's _Coal_.

She finds out about the documentary five days after Michael signs the release forms, when a camera and cameraman and a weary aide show up at the receptionist's desk asking for her.

When they enter her office, they're already filming, and the aide slides a clipboard across her desk.

"The director thought it would be nice," he explains, "to see you at the other end of the phone call."

Jan blinks. "What phone call?"

As if on cue, her intercom buzzes. _Michael Scott is on the line_, her secretary sighs.

Jan looks at the blinking light on line two, at the smiling aide, at the waiting clipboard.

Then she looks straight into the camera's lens and says, voice low, "Fuck."

*

 

Jan checks in with Dunder-Mifflin's branch managers every other day. Michael is her third call, and the one she dreads the most. He's unprofessional, unbecoming, and uninformative overall.

The fact that she's able to hang up on him without reprisal, however, does simplify things quite a bit.

Interaction with Michael aside, Jan does sometimes admit to herself, and frequently to her superiors, that Scranton often performs well above anybody's expectations. She suspects if she did a closer assessment of the salespeople at Scranton, she'd be able to pinpoint _why_. That would necessitate going to Scranton, though.

She's resigned to the pleasing mystery.

*

 

Jan hates calling Michael at his office, but she's also sure he's the only manager not calling her a crazy, power-hungry bitch after she hangs up.

Sometimes she hates that, but sometimes not.

She tries not to dwell.

*

 

On December 23, she arrives in her office to find an envelope and a gift basket. "It's from Michael," her secretary calls from the doorway.

Jan rolls her eyes, shuts the door. While she's safely ensconced, she still stifles her smile.

She nudges the envelope to the side of her desk, rips open the cellophane first. It's a gorgeous arrangement, Swiss chocolate and Spanish cheese, Indian tea and Arabian coffee. Jan prises a teabag from the basket, lifts it to her nose and inhales.

Thus fortified, she tears open the envelope and withdraws the card. The paper is heavy, and the front is all calligraphy and sparkly. Inside, _Happy Holidays_ is artfully printed. And underneath, in Michael's blocky handwriting, _to the ~~prettiest~~ best boss Scranton's ever had_.

*

 

Six days later, an expense report covered in red flags drops onto Jan's desk.

Jan looks up from her e-mail and frowns. "What's this?"

In front of her desk is Sheila from Accounting. She looks, to put it mildly, amused.

"Another expense report from Scranton," Sheila explains. "Kind of strange."

Jan half-smiles. "Of course." She picks up the report. Reads it once, then again. "This is for--"

"--your Christmas gift, yes." Sheila takes three steps back. "Let me know what you want to do."

Sheila pulls the door shut as she leaves, and Jan takes the opportunity to scream.

*

 

Jan has her secretary call Scranton. She waits on the line for two and a half minutes before Michael's voice punches through.

"Michael," she jumps in. "We can't reimburse you for a Christmas gift."

There's a pause, then a hesitant _harumph_. "It was work-related, Jan. I can't be reimbursed for a work-related purchase?"

"How was it work-related?"

"I sent it to you."

"And?"

"And I sent it to your office." Michael chuckles, the forced one that grates her nerves more than usual. "Now, I'd be happy to pay for it myself if it was a personal gift, but since I don't have your home addr--"

"No, of course." Jan rests her head in her hands. "Of course."

"...so?"

"Okay." Jan sits up, smiles at the empty air. "I'll take care of it, Michael. And thank you."

"You're welcome," he crows. "And I noticed the post office has neglected to--"

Jan hangs up, counts to thirty. Then she dials accounting.

"Accounting, this is Sheila."

"Hi, it's Jan." She bites her lip. "I'll take care of the gift basket."

The line buzzes in the silence, then Sheila coughs.

"I'll write you a check, okay?"

"I'll make a note," Sheila responds.

"Thanks," Jan says. "Thanks."

*

 

Jan draws the money from her divorce settlement, and tells herself it's a belated gift from her ex-husband.

She sends Michael a thank you card anyway.


End file.
